In the casket, I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut. Did they even know whose funeral they were attending?
Despite my knowledge of who was about to be placed six feet under for the rest of forever, I wasn’t really here for him. No, that bastard didn’t deserve an ounce of anyone’s attention.
I was here for Parker.
I wasn’t afraid to admit I was selfish when it came to that woman. Though I’d had Parker before, I stillwantedher.
I attributed my bouncing leg and chewed lower lip to grief. The seven stages and all that. And I knew, as much as any, that getting into a relationship so soon after a big loss was probably not the right thing to do.
I was kidding myself, though. Overthinking the possibility of her like I always did. Like when I walked into a gas station store and expected to see her at the soda machine, filling her cup to the brim with Dr. Pepper. Or when I’d show up to a vet office and hope that fate had led her to the same one, on the same day, in the same hour.
Parker likely wanted nothing to do with me. Ten years without talking, and I seriously thought I had a shot? At her dad’s funeral, for crying out loud?
And even if I saw her, what was my plan? Go up there and kiss her? Hug her? Share my condolences when we all knew the type of man Clarence Summerhill was?
As if my dreams were coming to fruition at that moment, a woman stepped in front of the casket. Her shoulders were back, black dress hugging her torso while the bottom fanned out in a loose skirt, all the way to her ankles. Her blonde hair was loose, a familiar wild wave to it.
Even though I could only see her back, I knew.
That was my Parker.
Everyone else quieted as she stood there, her head slightly angled to indicate she was staring at the closed casket. Did she see her reflection? Could she see me in it? Did she know I was here?
As fast as she appeared, she began to turn, and I flicked my eyes to my lap. I didn’t want her to catch me staring, but in my defense, it was a fucking funeral. Of course I’d be looking at the damn casket.
As the funeral went on, Parker was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t reappear until we were all standing, and I found her once again staring—this time at a massive bouquet.
I wondered who cared enough about her father to send a man-sized display of flowers. Kinda morbid, if you ask me. They were going to die, just like him. At least they provided a bit of beauty before they did, though. Her father never extended the same pleasure.
Slowly, Parker turned, and rather than only her back this time, I caught a glimpse of the side of her face. My breath hitched, chilled air swirling in my lungs with the hurricane of emotions that stirred at the sight of her again.
The last ten years had turned her from a teen into a woman, and holy fuck.
Parker was goddamn devastating.
As soon as she turned fully, my eyes fell to her slightly enlarged belly. It was disproportionate to the rest of her body, and the reason for it was clear.
My Parker was…pregnant?
I didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as her eyes locked with mine and shock settled into her features. It was as if she’d seen a ghost. Like the man who used to hold her close on those nights when her parents did nothing but fight couldn’t really be standing in front of her.
We stared at each other from across the lawn, chairs upon chairs separating us as others snacked, viewed the casket, or reminisced.
Parker and I, we didn’t have to voice our past. Those memories flashed in our eyes, electrifying the air that sat heavy between us. Every laugh, every smile, every goddamn tear that ever rolled down her beautiful freckled cheeks—I remembered them.
Maybe this was too much. Too soon after Garrett’s passing to be attending a funeral. To be seeing Parker in the flesh. Should I talk to her? Say hi? Run away and pretend I never showed?
Who even sent me the damn invite, anyway?
Could it really have been her? Did she really want me here? I mean, she was pregnant. She probably had a boyfriend, or fuck, ahusband, and wanted nothing to do with me. Or she wanted me to be her getaway driverfrom this place. And I’d do it. No question about that. I’d give her twelve more babies if she asked, too.
Fuck, what was wrong with me?
Beckham Bronson, get your shit together.
I forced my feet to move, my boots stamping down the grass as I went. I didn’t take my eyes off her, not even as some old man got in my way. I walked around him, stuck in the pull that was Parker’s orbit. She seemed hung up in it, too, those big hazel eyes sucking me in like they always did.
I came to a stop in front of her. Every time I blinked, I worried she’d disappear into thin air.
